


New Moon Winter

by CassSarkisian



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, Eventual Fluff, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 13:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19335733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassSarkisian/pseuds/CassSarkisian
Summary: In this retelling of the story presented in the 2012 movie, The Rise of the Guardians, Jack Frost is lost with no guidance whatsoever. Waking from the ice far earlier in the Lunar Cycle than he was meant to, he is not able to receive guidance from the Man in the Moon, and must search for answers on his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's not really a role reversal, but I couldn't tag it the way I wanted to. Think role change, not necessarily a reversal.

It was dark, and cold, and wet. He couldn't breathe, but he also couldn't feel a need to. Where other people's hearts would be pounding in their ears, he could hear nothing. When he finally wrenched his eyes open, it didn't help. There was nothing there, no light to guide him except for the faint glint of what he assumed was ice. He reached up towards it, feeling the glassy surface against his fingers, he pushed against it. He felt it start to give, he was lucky, then. The ice wasn't too thick. He bashed his hands against it, as hard as he could given the water's resistance, and cracked through it.

He swam upwards, moving clumsily out of the water, and onto a thicker patch of ice. It was hard to see, given that the area was surrounded by trees, and the Moon was no where to be seen. "A new moon, then," he said quietly to the abandoned glade. The words feeling strange in his mouth as he moved no air to speak them. He glanced about the area, his gaze landing on a long, crooked staff. He reached for it, and as he touched it, a small spark of frost moved from his fingers to the wooden pole. He lifted it, and intuitively recognised it as soon focus for his newfound abilities. He tried to crack the ice with it, but instead, thickened it to the point where it would be safe to skate upon.

He chuckled, a breathless laugh, and tried to frost a tree, making a design that appeared similar to an ice skate. He leaped into the air, and was greeted by a wind, that wrapped itself around him, and carried him higher, into the middle branches of the very tree he'd frosted. He grinned, a wild grin, and allowed himself to fall backwards, the wind catching him effortlessly and whisking him off to an unknown location.

When it set him down, he was in a town. He looked at the people moving to and fro hurriedly, whispering about some dark creature that had been terrifying the children. He waved at a few adults, attempting to ask where he was, and if anyone knew him, for he had no memory, even of his name, but no one responded. He tried to stop a young girl, and speak to her, but to his great surprise, she ran straight through him.

He made a sound similar to a gasp, clutching his staff close to his chest, and leapt to the wind. Willing it to take him back to the lake, where, scared, confused, and alone, he slept for the night.

When he awoke the next morning, he stretched, moving slowly with the leftover drowsiness, he decided to take a look through the town nearby once more. The wind took him, slower this time, so he could see more of the land along the way, and dropped him near a large building with the symbol of a cross on the front wall. He looked near it, and saw a plot of land with stones placed intermittently throughout. He examined each one, taking in the names and dates engraved on each. Eventually he came to the grave of a young boy, only seventeen, and read his name, Jackson Overland. He decided he liked it, but that Jackson sounded too long. It may have only been two syllables, but it felt wrong. He decided he liked the name Jack. But each stone had two names, so Jack figured that that was the norm. He thought for a moment, but couldn't think of more than his powers. He supposed what he created would do as well as anything else, and so, the name Jack Frost, came to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mischief Managed.

Jack laughed as he swooped over the town, a light snowfall following him. He smiled as he paused by the windows, taking the time to frost each pane of glass individually with different patterns. He'd found that human often got headaches when patterns didn't match up, and it was entertaining to watch their faces scrunch up and contort in faces that seemed silly.

He paused by a specific window, he'd stooped by that window time and time again. Inside was a girl's room, it was simple, not really decorated, but it felt familiar. Not his, but someone he'd known, perhaps. He sighed, as he'd done before this window many a time, and shook his head, asking the wind to carry him home.

When he was back by his pond, for it wasn't quite a lake, he sat in the branches of his favorite tree, and attempted to create a Frostmake. An animated being of frost. The first time it happened had been an accident, he'd woken from slumber to find a Frostmake kitten on his chest. He realized he'd be dreaming about a cat, and that led to the discovery that he could make them. At this time he was having difficulty.

He was trying to Frostmake a person. He'd had some success with larger Frostmakes in the past, he'd managed to create a wolf, but something about making a person, he just couldn't figure it out. He concentrated on the girl that the room belonged to, and managed to make a statue of her, but when he tried to animate it, she wouldn't move. Unless he expressly told her what to do. Jack growled and destroyed the Frostmake. No matter what he tried, there was no free will there, just his own, and he didn't want a puppet.

 

From nearby, a pair of golden eyes watched the young spirit, he saw his despair at being unable to create something that could act as a companion. He watched as the young spirit struck his staff to the ground in a fit of rage. He smiled in the darkness, this spirit could prove a worthy tool in the days ahead.


End file.
